


Amortentia and Roses

by Gay_Soba



Series: Claurenz Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Ballroom Dancing, Implied Violence, M/M, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Mutual Pining, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22372102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_Soba/pseuds/Gay_Soba
Summary: “Professor Seteth just wanted to warn me to pick a partner for the Yule Ball, or else I’d be dancing by myself during the first dance with the other champions.”Lorenz stilled in the middle of loosening his yellow and black tie. “I thought you weren’t going to the Yule Ball.”“I wasn’t, but apparently participation is mandatory, just like bogus, rigged tournaments with goblets that cough out illegally entered names.”-Written for Claurenz Week, Day One: Dancing.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Series: Claurenz Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610464
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82





	Amortentia and Roses

**Author's Note:**

> I had a choice between posting on time or having my betas read the story. Take a wild guess which one I picked.
> 
> Many big thanks to Ari and Montana for beta'ing and acting as my sound board for all of my best/worst headcanons. Stay groovy, you funky, little wlws.

“Ah, Mr. von Riegan, just the person I was looking for. A word please?”

Claude grimaced inwardly before fixing a casual smile as he turned away from Hilda to find Seteth, the Deputy Headmaster, looking at him over the rim of his glasses, arms crossed. He did a quick bit of mental calculus to figure out which of his recent schemes or experiments Seteth might want to lecture him about this time. If Dimitri’s overprotective bodyguard, Dedue, couldn’t pin Claude for transfiguring the Beauxbaton candidate’s hair into string cheese, there was no way Seteth would be able to. “Professor, what a surprise! I’d love to stay and chat, but I was just on my way to Potions class and you know how Professor Hanneman locks his door after the bell–”

“While I am pleased to see you taking your studies so seriously, I have also received prior permission from Professor Hanneman to pull you aside,” Seteth continued smoothly. Hilda coughed behind a raised fist to disguise her snickering at how quickly Claude’s attempt to slip away had been slapped down. “This matter pertains to the Triwizard Tournament.”

Ah, that. Claude bit the inside of his cheek, searching his brain for anything he may have missed. The second task wasn’t for another three months and he had practically been beating his head against the walls of the Slytherin common room for the past two weeks trying to solve his clue. “Sure, Professor.”

“I’ll see you in class, Claude. Try not to burst a vessel thinking too hard,” Hilda said with a smirk, obviously pleased to see Seteth’s undivided attention on another student for once.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take some–you know what? I’m just gonna ask Lorenz for notes, since expecting you to take any would be as likely as a hippogriff doing a jig,” Claude called at her retreating form. Hilda flipped him off discreetly behind the sleeve of her robe as she hurried down the hall, but there was still a smile on her face. He turned back to face Seteth. “So, Professor, what’s the urgent news? Did the Giant Squid finally snap and sink the Durmstrang ship for encroaching on their turf?”

“It’s nothing as dire as that, I can assure you,” Seteth said, raising an eyebrow as his normally stern expression turned into a smile. Claude’s stomach bubbled with unease. If the intent of the smile had been to comfort or humor him, Seteth had failed spectacularly. “As you are already aware, instead of our usual Yuletide feast, Hogwarts will be hosting the Yule Ball as a sign of respect to our guests from the rival schools. There will be a menagerie of festivities, the most important of which being the dance. In fact, it is the reason why students are required to invite a partner in order to attend.”

“Right, Headmaster Rhea mentioned that this morning,” Claude said carefully, not knowing nor liking the direction this conversation was heading.

“As Hogwarts’ representative Champion, it will be you and your partner along with the Champions of the other schools, that will be opening the festivities with the first dance. Thus, your attendance and partnership are not merely a suggestion, but mandatory.”

Claude blinked rapidly at the Deputy Headmaster, before forcing out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, sorry, could you repeat that one more time?”

Seteth’s bemused smile widened. “I suggest you get to finding a partner for the Yule Ball, Claude, or else you may be forced to do a waltz on your own in front of the entire school.”

The bubbling in Claude’s stomach increased to a full boil as his mouth twisted into an open grimace. “Thanks for telling me that, Professor, I’ll get to work on it right away,” he managed to get out.

“Very good. Now, I believe I’ve kept you for long enough. I’ll see you tomorrow in Transfiguration.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” he said faintly, and that was it. Seteh left and Claude was now alone in the empty halls to stew in his own head as he made his way to class, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls like the multitude of thoughts bouncing around his skull. Just what he needed, to be forced to stumble his way through a stuffy dance, potentially without a partner, in front of the entire student population. Not to mention that as the half-blood Slytherin heir to the traditionally Gryffindor Riegan family, he wasn’t exactly the most popular student in the school, which meant that his list of potential partners was short enough as is. All for a tournament he hadn’t even entered himself into, probably because someone was trying to kill him, again, this year…

Get it together, Claude berated himself once the door to the Potions classroom came into view. Empty yourself of emotion. Erase your thoughts. The familiar calm of his Occlumency lessons with Judith and his grandfather washed over him as he pushed the heavy doors open.

The combined aroma of Almyran pine on a sweltering summer’s day, a fresh mountain breeze sweeping over the steppes, and roses washed over him as soon as he took his first step inside. Claude found himself breathing in deeply as he took his usual place in between Lorenz and Hilda, who were in the process of setting up their cauldrons for today’s lesson. On Professor Hanneman’s desk, a golden cauldron gently simmered as the resulting steam rose in a striking spiral pattern. Claude leaned forward slightly for a better look at the shimmery liquid within.

“Mr. von Riegan, good to see you. It appears that Professor Seteth’s talk with you did not require as much time as he made it sound,” Professor Hanneman said, sweeping over as soon as he had noticed Claude’s arrival.

“Yeah, it was just some minor tournament business,” Claude said, dismissively waving his hand with a casual smile. “Nothing nearly as exciting as whatever’s going on here. What’s with the Amortentia, Professor?”

Professor Hanneman beamed, the corners of his mustache turning up as if to join the owner’s merriment. “Excellent observation, Mr. von Riegan, I would expect nothing less from the best potioneer of the year. Ten points to Slytherin.” Claude heard a barely audible scoff from Lorenz’s direction. “In today’s lesson, we will be brewing antidotes. Each student will come to my desk and pick a numbered vial. While I may have brought Amortentia in as an example, as it is the most potent and dangerous love potion in existence, the vials themselves are random. At the end of the class, each student will be graded on the quality of their antidote.”

Claude nodded. “Sounds simple enough.” Half of the other students in the class shot him a glare as Professor Hanneman chuckled at Claude’s blithe attitude before walking away to observe the rest of the class.

“You could at least have the decency to pretend that this is hard for you,” Hilda grumbled once Claude had returned to his seat with a vial.

“You’re just angry that you won’t be able to copy off of my work.” Claude poured half of the potion into his cauldron, noting the bright red color and thick viscosity. He pursed his lips. Maybe he could get away with brewing a Hate Potion of the appropriate potency rather than a proper antidote…

“Am not! Ugh, nevermind that, what did Professor Seteth want to talk to you about?”

“Hilda, could you please keep your chatting to a minimum? Some of us are trying to do our work,” Lorenz gritted out, sweating slightly from the steam rising out of his cauldron in gentle waves.

“Nah, it’s fine, just–” Claude took note of the peppermint and rose scented vapor rising in a steady stream from the cauldron, as well as the fine white dust building up where the liquid had evaporated. A Vincitamor potion, apparently. “Professor Seteth just wanted to warn me to pick a partner for the Yule Ball, or else I’d be dancing by myself during the first dance with the other Champions.”

Lorenz stilled in the middle of loosening his yellow and black tie. “I thought you weren’t going to the Yule Ball.”

“I wasn’t, but apparently participation is mandatory, just like bogus, rigged tournaments with goblets that cough out illegally entered names.”

“So, do you have anyone in mind, Claude?” Hilda asked, her slightly smoking potion abandoned in favor of gossip.

“Not really,” he said, Vanishing the contents of his cauldron. He was definitely going to need to get the snake fangs and fresh mistletoe berries from Professor Hanneman’s supply, but he should still have enough powdered unicorn horn, billywig slime, and porcupine quills. A sharp pain erupted on his arm as Hilda smacked him out of his musing. “Ow! What was that for?”

But Hilda only rolled her eyes before shooting Lorenz, whose nose was buried in his potions textbook, a significant stare. “Nothing,” she sighed, turning back to her work. ”Just don’t come crying to me when you’ve got no one else to turn to. I’ve already asked Marianne.”

Claude’s eyes flicked over to the quiet Gryffindor girl seated in the back corner whom Hilda had been infatuated with since their fourth year. Well there went his back up plan, he thought, getting up to go to the student store for his remaining ingredients. He had three more weeks and bigger things to worry about.

* * *

“Claude! You only have a week and a half left till the Ball, what are you doing?” Hilda blurted out as soon as he sat down at the Slytherin table to eat at breakfast. The ceiling today was a tumultuous gray that cast a pallor that not even the friendly torchlight or hovering candles could dispel.

“God, Hilda, at least let me get some food in my stomach before lecturing me,” he said as he pulled up a copy of the Daily Prophet that an earlier student must have left to grant a small reprieve from her narrow eyed glare. “ I assure you that everything is under control and that it will turn out just fine.”

Hilda snorted. “Uh huh, is that why you’re still partnerless and without a clue on how to waltz?”

“I told you everything’s fine,” he assured her, even as he felt the creep of cold anxiety up his back.

Everything was not fine. A few people had approached him in the past week about partnering for the ball, but somehow he had a feeling they were asking more for the notoriety they would get for attending the ball with the school’s champion rather than an interest in Claude himself. True, he was starting to get desperate, but he still had standards. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t spared a thought towards who he would prefer to go with, he just didn’t particularly want to address that particular rabbit hole even on the best of days.

His friendship with Lorenz was still relatively new after years of hexing each other in the hallways _–_ not to mention all the times Claude coated Lorenz’s belongings in various poisons–and shaky after the argument the two of them had after Claude’s name first came out of the Goblet due to foul play. Just like that, most of the progress they had made over the past six years disintegrated. That is, until the First Task, from which Claude had escaped with only a nasty cut to the forehead when one of the three griffins he stole treasure from tried to slice his entire face open. Lorenz had rushed into the infirmary tent, pale faced and shaking as his trembling hands gave Claude a once over despite Madame Casagranda’s peevish protests in the background. Lorenz apologized for not believing his allegations, and Claude forgave him.

But it wasn’t the same as before. Lorenz no longer clucked his tongue at Claude’s perpetually messy hair, which would prompt him to smack the nag’s hand away. Claude hadn’t even threatened to poison Lorenz in over two weeks or chewed with his mouth gaping as he made eye contact with him at the Hufflepuff Table. A new distance stretched between them, delicate as a glass filament, ready to buckle and shatter under the slightest misstep. So he ignored it, or failing that, abused his Occlumency lessons to achieve some semblance of emotional normalcy.

A light touch to his shoulder jolted Claude out of his thoughts. Lorenz stood behind him with a wry little smile on his face, not a single lavender hair or button misplaced despite the early hour. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear indeed. “Good morning, Claude. Is there a particular reason you did not hear me calling your name the first three times, or is the Daily Prophet just that engaging today?”

Fuck. “Lorenz, what a pleasant surprise,” Claude managed to get out as he turned and leaned back to face Lorenz more comfortably. “You know me, I just can’t get enough of-” he glanced at the first bolded phrase on the page, “-the market value increase of Acromantula venom.”

Hilda let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like “smooth” and Claude aimed a swift kick at her shins underneath the table.

“How… interesting,” Lorenz said, though his tone and scrunched nose implied otherwise. “The market for rare arachnid venom aside, I wanted to return these to you.”

“Hm? I lent you something?”

“It’s not that you lent it so much as you cursed them to smack me on the head during our spat,” said Lorenz, his cheeks red as he pulled out several books from his bag and avoided Claude and Hilda’s eyes. 

“Oh. Right. I sure did that, huh?” Claude reached out to take the small stack of books from Lorenz, a few of which he recognized as his Almyran poetry anthologies that had gone missing.

An awkward silence descended upon the three of them, which only served to make Lorenz grow redder the longer it went on. “If there’s nothing else you wish to discuss, I will be taking my leave. I will see you in class, Claude, Hilda,” he said, stiffly nodding before turning around to make his way out of the Great Hall.

Not quite knowing what to make of the exchange, Claude put the books on the bench space next to him and turned back to his breakfast. He glanced up to find Hilda glaring daggers at him as she took a loud slurp of her orange juice, eyes narrowed in displeasure. “What?”

“Claude,” she said in a honeyed tone, the one she only ever used before going in for the kill, “If you don’t go out there and ask out one of the few people in our year who is still available for the Ball and knows how to dance, I will personally find your stash of poisons and leave them outside of Professor Seteth’s office with your name plastered all over it.”

“You wouldn’t. There’s no way you would even be able to find it.”

Her eyes glinted dangerously. “Do you really want to test that theory?”

Claude shoved his belongings, some toast, and fruit into his bag before dashing out of the Great Hall under Hilda’s smug smile.

“Lorenz! Hey, Lorenz,” Claude called out as soon as he caught sight of the Hufflepuff’s retreating back just outside the entrance to the Great Hall. Lorenz spun around, eyes wide, a faint flush on his cheeks, and his hands twisted together so tightly that his knuckles were white.“Er, are you alright? You’re looking kind of–”

“It’s nothing,” Lorenz snapped, then flinched at the harshness of his tone. His hands flew to tug at the longest tresses of his hair, the most recent addition to Lorenz’s repertoire of nervous habits.

When he’d first started to awkwardly grow his hair out, Claude had teased him mercilessly for months. He couldn’t argue with the results, however. Lorenz’s hair had always been silken and well maintained, but the added length made the locks appear absolutely luxurious. Claude’s fingers twitched. How would Lorenz react if he tucked a stray hair behind his ear?

“I’m just… rather disappointed in myself is all. I meant that it’s nothing that you need to concern yourself with,” he added, the gentleness in his voice snapping Claude out of his reverie.

Claude frowned as he refocused on his task. “Well, if you’re sure. By the way, I want to ask you something.”

“Then go ahead and ask, von Riegan.”

“Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

The effect was near instantaneous. Lorenz made a choking noise and flushed hard enough to give a lobster a run for its money. “Wh–what are you–”

“That doesn’t sound like a ‘why yes, Claude, I would be most honored to attend the Yule Ball with the handsomest wizard to grace Hogwarts' esteemed halls’ now does it?”

Lorenz scowled and turned impossibly redder. "I swear, if this is some scheme of yours and Hilda's, I'm going to hex you across the English Channel."

"Nah, I'm genuinely asking you to attend the Yule Ball with me," Claude replied with an easy wave of his hand. A voice in the back of his head started screeching as nervous energy began to boil in his stomach. This conversation sure was heading… somewhere. "Besides, who else am I going to ask to teach me your weird partner dances? I don't have the slightest clue where to begin and Hilda already refused."

"Oh." Lorenz's hands fell, unmoving at his sides. "You require assistance with learning to dance."

"Well yeah, but it would also be nice to go with a friend instead of some stranger who's only asking because I'm the school champion, right?" Claude said. The voice started screeching louder, like the brakes on a train just before the crash.

Lorenz bit his bottom lip as his eyes darted to the floor. "I suppose I could go with you to the Ball. It would not do for our representative and heir to the esteemed House Riegan to trip into the punch bowl at such a prestigious international event," he said slowly.

"Sounds like a plan then. I can ask Teach to see if they'll lend their classroom for evening practice. Does tomorrow at seven sound good?"

"Only if you'll read over my potions essay. Just because you may be excused from schoolwork doesn't mean the rest of us are," Lorenz said with a shaky smile. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to go back to pick some materials for class."

"Right, I'll see you later in Transfiguration."

Not even waiting for Claude to finish his wave, Lorenz turned around without a second glance and hurried down the hall leaving Claude to stand alone in the gloom. Mission accomplished. He now had a partner for the ball and averted the crisis of looking like a fool in front of the school. Claude let out a long breath out through his teeth as he brought a hand up to his forehead. All the tension from the past few weeks leeched out of his frame, the damp chill of the weather penetrating his skin, as the way Lorenz had reacted played on repeat in his mind.

Everything was as it should be, he thought weakly as he hiked up his book bag to ignore the bitter taste of disappointment spreading over the back of his mouth.

* * *

“Hey, Hilda?” Claude asked sweetly. The two of them were currently sitting in the ghostly, undulating light of the Slytherin common area, Hilda working hard for once on homework assigned over the break for Charms and Claude laying slumped on a lumpy, black leather couch after his third evening of dance practice with Lorenz.

“Absolutely not.” Hilda stuck her tongue out in concentration as she poked her wand at the tea cup she was supposed to nonverbally charm to sing.

“Oh come on, I haven’t even asked.”

“You dug yourself into this hole, you’re going to have to dig yourself out, loverboy,” she said through clenched teeth. The teacup had fallen over and now had a case of the hiccups. “And you had better fix this, because Ignatz won’t stop worrying about it in Alchemy Club and if you and Lorenz are still acting weird it’s going to put Marianne on edge during the Ball.”

Claude groaned. “How am I supposed to do that? During practice it’s nothing but constant criticism about how terrible my posture is or how I’m ahead of the beat and as soon as it’s over he runs out of the classroom like I set off a Dung Bomb.”

“Excuses, excuses. What’s in it for me?”

“Access to all of my notes for Potions for the rest of the year plus a great, absolutely not awkward date with Marianne?”

Hilda poked the yodeling tea cup with a scowl. “Throw in your Charms notes and we’ll have a deal.”

“Deal.”

“My advice is that you already know what you did wrong, and that you’re just going to have to be honest. With him and yourself.”

Claude dragged his hands down his face and fixed Hilda with a slight glare. “How are you helping if your only advice is something I already know?”

“Because as ‘smart’ as you are with other stuff, you’re hopeless without me when it comes to being earnest about your feelings. Now,” Hilda held her hand out and wiggled her fingers expectantly, “The Ball’s in five days, so give me those notes and get to it.”

* * *

The next night, Claude took a deep breath before walking into Professor Eisner’s classroom for dance practice. Lorenz was already there, probably five minutes early as he usually was, flipping through different records by the gramophone as a dignified waltz floated through the air. Unaware that he was no longer alone, he tucked his hair behind his ear and tapped his fingers on the side of the cardboard record sleeves to the beat of the music. Reluctant to end the moment, Claude leaned against the doorway to muster the nerve to say what he needed to say tonight.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and put on an easy smile. “So, what are we going to be working on today, Teach?”

Lorenz’s shoulders tensed and he spun around to reveal narrowed, violet eyes. “If you have been standing there as long as I fear you have, then perhaps we would be better off skipping the dancing tonight to work on your manners.”

“Yeah, I guess I kind of deserved that,” Claude said with a wince. If it had been the other way around, with Claude being the one startled from behind, Lorenz probably would have had to dodge a hastily fired off curse. He pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked into the room as one would approach the gallows. “Sorry about that.”

Lorenz’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you feeling alright? I rarely ever get an apology from you unless you feel that you have committed some egregious error.”

_Here it is, Claude, he’s plopped the opportunity right in front of you. Just get it over with. Just tell him you were serious about asking him out and that you backtracked because you’re an emotionally backed up chucklefuck._

“Oh it’s nothing. I’ve just been distracted lately, what with the Second Task and the Yule Ball,” he said instead. If it were possible to use magic to kick his own ass, Claude would have gladly cast it in a heartbeat.

“Indeed, your steps are fine but your leading leaves much to be desired.” Lorenz waved his wand and the desks in the center of the room all shot to the edges of the classroom, forming an open space in the center. “But I thought we might try something different today.”

“Different how?” The two of them made their way into the center of the hardwood floor and faced each other. Claude suppressed the urge to jump when Lorenz took an arm and moved it higher than usual.

“Until now, I’ve had you do shadow training, so that I could fix your posture and footwork, but we haven't been making much progress with that method.” He promptly moved the other arm into its usual place but adjusted the grip and forced Claude to lean back until he was close to toppling over. After inspecting his work and making some last changes, Lorenz stepped forward to fit the two of them together like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. Claude willed his heart to keep from bursting out of his rib cage. "With that in mind, I thought that it would be best if I lead today."

A flash of a mischievous smile was all the warning Claude got before Lorenz swept the two of them into a Nuvellian Waltz, famed for its elegant simplicity that left no room for error. Claude swallowed, using every ounce of his will power to concentrate on his feet as the scent of roses grew stronger. Goddammit, why did Lorenz have to smell so nice? It would be so much easier to concentrate if he smelled at least a little bit gross like other guys their age.

“You know, if you wanted to sweep me off my feet, all you had to do was ask,” Claude teased once he felt comfortable enough with the established rhythm to divide his attention as they flowed from one bar to the next.

Lorenz smirked. “Do you really think you have the leisure to be making idle chit chat?” 

The room blurred as Lorenz raised their joined hands above Claude’s head for a spin. Then, with a tug, Claude spun back into place, only to be treated to an excellent view of the ceiling as Lorenz maneuvered him into a dip. For one wild, terrifying moment, Claude felt as though he were about to fall. But the gentle warmth of Lorenz's hands on his back and gripping his own kept him steady. A silken sheet of Lorenz’s hair fell over his shoulder and brushed against Claude’s cheek as he stared dumbfounded at Lorenz, all too aware of how close their faces were in this position. 

However, all good things must come to an end. After a second or two, Lorenz pulled Claude upright and the two of them returned to their original positions once more. “Well, Claude? Do you think that this was a helpful teaching method?”

“I lied,” Claude blurted out.

Lorenz eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he broke their hold. “Pardon?”

“On Monday. When I asked you to go with me to the Yule Ball, it wasn’t because I was getting desperate and settled for going with a friend. At least not entirely. I actually was starting to sweat a bit about not having a date.”

A flash of comprehension flashed in Lorenz’s eyes. “So when you asked me to the Ball…”

“I was one hundred percent serious about wanting to go with you as my non-platonic date, yeah.” Claude brought a hand to the back of his neck and shifted his weight nervously. “I missed you when we were fighting, and I was worried that if I came on too strong or if I even tried to acknowledge how I felt so soon after our spat that it would drive you away again.”

“So instead of asking me out like a sensible human being, you decided to self sabotage by backtracking as soon as it looked like you might get exactly what you wanted.”

“You’re not exactly wrong, but I’d like to defend myself on the grounds that you can give really mixed signals sometimes.”

Lorenz took a moment to regard Claude with a small smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks. “I missed you too, Claude, and I really am sorry for how I acted before. When your name came out of the Goblet despite your previous disinterest, I irrationally thought it was another scheme of yours to grab the spotlight and I...”

“And you acted like a total prat. I remember.” Claude took a step forward with the beginnings of a mischievous smile. “I know I already said I forgave you, but if you really want to make it up to me I might have an idea.”

“Oh? I shudder to imagine whatever Herculean task you have in mind.”

Claude couldn’t suppress a little chuckle at that, his entire chest going warm at the look of self satisfaction on Lorenz’s face at his accomplishment. “It’s nothing that bad, I promise.”

“I must say, your stalling isn’t helping your claim,” Lorenz said as he too took a step closer so that Claude was forced to tilt his face up.

“Will you teach me how to dance for the Yule Ball?” Claude said, holding a hand out in invitation.

Lorenz rolled his eyes and slapped Claude’s hand away. “Try again, von Riegan.”

“Fine, fine, no more fooling around.” Claude cleared his throat and when he grinned, it came as easily and naturally as breathing. “Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, would you go to the Yule Ball with me, not as my friend, but as my date?”

When Claude extended his hand this time, Lorenz took it with a face splitting smile of his own. “It would be my pleasure, Claude.”

**Author's Note:**

> Extra Scene:  
> Lorenz: I should buy something to thank Hilda.  
> Claude: Huh? What does Hilda have to do with this?  
> Lorenz: She was the one who suggested that I might have more success if I lead tonight.  
> Claude:  
> Claude: Damn, she really earned those notes.
> 
> Fun fact: A Nuvellian Waltz is just a renamed Viennese Waltz. [Here's the video I used as a reference](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDenZ1rH6GU), sans the spin and dip at the end.


End file.
